#R&B Singer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xoxorealitygalore · 2 months ago

Text

Trust and Believe VIII

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Keyshia Anoa’i Spotted at Miami Recording Studio

Grammy-winning singer Keyshia Anoa’i was spotted heading into a recording studio in Miami on Saturday morning.

The R&B icon was seen arriving at the studio in the early hours, dressed in a sleek floor-length black coat with red hearts all over it, paired with black lounge attire, a bucket hat, and a stylish Birkin handbag. Her casual yet fashionable look drew attention, especially as she stepped into the studio building.

Keyshia had never been one for surprises. At least, not ones that caught her off guard in such a profound way. The recording studio was the one place where she felt in control of everything. Her voice, her creativity, her emotions. But this time, the air felt different.

It was heavy with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation, the weight of finishing her tenth album hanging over her like a cloud. She’d spent countless hours in that studio, lost in melodies and lyrics, trying to capture something raw, something real.

But today, she was tired. Her body had long ago given up on rest, the demands of her label, the pressure of deadlines, and the constant buzz of public expectation had worn her thin. She missed her kids. She missed Joe.

As the final notes of the track they’d been working on reverberated through the speakers, Keyshia sighed deeply. The music had come together, but there was still something missing. Maybe it was just her. Maybe she needed more than just success; she needed peace.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Almost six in the morning.

Keyshia’s eyes flicked toward the door just as it opened, and she froze. Standing there, silhouetted by the dim light, was Joe. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not today. She was too stressed out to think about what was happening with their marriage.

They’d talked about their marriage. They’d agreed they needed to fix things, to rebuild what had been broken, but this? This felt unexpected. Joe had never been the type to just show up at her studio sessions. That had been one of the things that had faded away over time, like so many other small gestures that used to matter, small moments they shared that slowly slipped away without them even realizing it.

She blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of it. When was the last time he’d shown up for her like this? The thought nagged at her for a moment. Then it hit her. When did they stop being there for each other long before things went south? She couldn’t excuse his actions, couldn’t forget the betrayal, but in this moment, she understood something about them that she hadn’t fully grasped before: they’d stopped showing up for each other.

Keyshia shook her head slightly, pushing those thoughts away as she walked out of the booth and gestured for her producers to leave the room. It was only then that she realized how long it had been since she had been truly alone with Joe.

"Hey," she said softly, standing in front of him. He seemed a little nervous, a little uncertain, but his eyes never left hers. He held out a breakfast platter from Waffle House.

Keyshia blinked, caught off guard by the gesture.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the food, though her mind was elsewhere. She glanced at the clock again.

"What are you doing here, Joe?" she asked, her voice quiet but laced with confusion. "Is everything okay with the kids? Where are they?"

Joe smiled, a small, reassuring gesture, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"The kids are fine. They’re with my mom. I just… wanted to check up on you."

Keyshia nodded, her heart softening slightly. It was rare for Joe to be so thoughtful, so direct in his intentions. But the smile faded quickly, replaced by a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

"Okay," she replied, her voice distant as she sat down. She picked at her food, though the question still lingered in the air between them. What was Joe really doing here?

After a few moments, Joe broke the silence. "How’s the album coming along?"

"Almost done," Keyshia answered, though she didn’t quite feel the satisfaction of finishing it. She didn’t feel anything, really, but tired. "It’s coming together. Sooner than expected."

Joe nodded, but there was something in his expression, a quiet determination that made Keyshia look up from her food.

"Do you think you could leave right now?" he asked, his voice steady, but with an edge of urgency she hadn’t expected.

"Where do you want to go?" Keyshia asked, curiosity piquing in her voice.

Joe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, and she followed his lead, calling her producers back into the room to inform them that she would be leaving for the day. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn’t quite find the words to protest. Something about Joe’s presence now felt different like an unspoken promise, even if it was just a fleeting moment. Maybe they weren’t lost entirely.

Joe led her out of the recording studio, and they climbed into his car, the silence between them filling the space in ways that words never could. As the car made its way through the streets of Miami, Keyshia’s mind wandered, but it was a struggle to focus. There was too much on her plate, too much weighing her down.

"Where are we going, Joe?" she asked again, unable to keep the questions bottled up.

"You’ll see," Joe replied, his voice calm, but there was an unspoken anticipation there, a feeling of something changing. She could sense it, even if she didn’t quite understand it.

Minutes passed, and soon they were entering a gated community. Keyshia frowned, her thoughts racing. What was going on? Why did Joe want to bring her here? Her confusion only grew when they pulled into the driveway of a massive, pristine house that almost seemed to shimmer in the soft morning light. It was… well, it was something else entirely.

She turned to Joe, her voice low with disbelief. "Why are we here?"

Joe took a deep breath, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked at her, the weight of the moment pressing in on both of them.

"I sold the penthouse," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I realized it was part of our problem. The penthouse, the things, the stuff that didn’t matter… I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t. So I bought this house for us. The house you wanted in the first place. The one I was too stubborn to get."

Keyshia’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the house, her mind struggling to process the enormity of the gesture. It was everything she had dreamed of, everything she had imagined, a vast, modern masterpiece perched on the edge of Miami Beach, offering sweeping views of the open bay, the skyline, and everything in between. It was stunning. It was breathtaking.

But it was also a commitment. A commitment to something bigger than just a house. It was a statement. A promise that Joe wanted a fresh start. A clean slate.

They got out of the car, and Joe unlocked the front door, inviting Keyshia into the house. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The space was beyond anything she could have ever envisioned.

The walls seemed to pulse with possibilities. The entire home was a work of art. From the sprawling 10 bedrooms and 11.5 baths to the fully automated smart systems that controlled everything from the lights to the temperature, it felt like stepping into another world. The high ceilings, the wide-open spaces, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered endless views of the bay. It was all too much.

Joe gave her a tour, showing her the staff suite, the luxurious chef’s kitchen, and the massive master bedroom. She followed him numbly, her thoughts in a whirlwind, trying to come to terms with what was happening. She could see the changes Joe had made, the effort he had put into creating something that felt like home.

Finally, they reached the backyard, and Keyshia stepped out onto the patio. The view was nothing short of mesmerizing, the open bay stretched out before her, the water reflecting the glow of the fading dawn. Joe stood beside her, waiting for her response.

"So?" Joe asked, his voice soft but filled with hope. "What do you think?"

Keyshia looked out at the horizon, her heart a mix of emotions. She loved the house, but the magnitude of what it represented was overwhelming. The house was a symbol of everything they had, everything they could have, but also a reminder of everything they had lost.

"I love it," she said, her voice uncertain. "But… Joe, this is a huge commitment. We’re still working through things. This house… feels like so much more than just a house. It feels like… it feels like it’s supposed to fix us."

Joe turned to her, his expression softening. "I don’t expect it to fix us. But maybe it’s a start. A fresh start. Something that feels right. For us. For our family."

Keyshia felt a pang in her chest. A fresh start. That was all she’d ever wanted. But could this house really be the answer to everything? Could this be the first step toward healing, or would it just be another reminder of all the things they had yet to rebuild?

She didn’t know. Not yet. Sometimes, fresh starts don’t come with all the answers.

They came with a leap of faith.

The air in the therapist’s office felt thick, a kind of charged silence hanging over Keyshia and Joe as they sat across from Dr. Malin, their newest therapist.

Keyshia swallowed, glancing at Joe before looking down at her hands. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for anymore. She wasn’t even sure she knew who she was anymore.

She had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman who knew her worth and would never tolerate betrayal. But now, as she sat across from Joe and their new therapist, she felt torn in ways she had never imagined possible.

The weight of everything they had been through hung in the air. The long hours spent in silence, the shouting matches, the endless questions that had no clear answers, and the steady, painful unraveling of what they once had. Keyshia was terrified. Not just of losing Joe, but of losing herself.

The therapist, a middle-aged woman with soft eyes and a calm demeanor, had been recommended by their previous counselor, a person who had been there when things started to fall apart, and now, perhaps, someone who could help them rebuild. But as Keyshia sat there, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, she felt unsure of the path ahead. Every word that left her mouth felt like an admission of weakness, like she was betraying her own strength, her own identity.

She had always been the woman who walked away. The one who didn’t tolerate disrespect. The one who set boundaries and never let anyone cross them. But here she was, sitting in front of a stranger, discussing the most intimate, painful part of her life: Joe’s betrayal. And instead of walking away, she was still sitting here, trying to make sense of it all.

"Keyshia," the therapist said gently, her voice a soft anchor in the storm of thoughts swirling in Keyshia’s mind, "can you tell me what you’re feeling right now?"

Keyshia took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. The space between her thoughts seemed infinite. She had to be honest with herself, but the truth felt like a weight too heavy to bear.

"I’m... struggling," Keyshia began, her voice quiet but steady. "I don't know how to feel. Part of me wants to walk away, but part of me still wants to make this work. I’m torn between what I stand for and what I want. It’s... it’s an inner battle."

She looked up at the therapist, her eyes filled with frustration and pain. "I’ve always prided myself on being the woman who doesn’t put up with shit. You know? I’ve always been the one who would walk away if someone disrespected me. But now... I don’t know if I’m being weak by staying or strong for trying to fight for my family."

The therapist nodded thoughtfully, her gaze never wavering from Keyshia. "It sounds like you're facing a deep internal conflict. You want to protect your sense of self, but you also want to protect your family and your marriage. That’s a difficult place to be."

Keyshia nodded, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Yeah, and I thought I knew who I was. But now, I feel like I’m betraying everything I thought I stood for."

Joe shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes locked on the floor. He had been quiet for most of the session, his fingers tapping nervously against the armrest of his chair. He hated seeing Keyshia like this, but he knew he had to own up to his mistakes. He had to explain himself, no matter how hard it was.

The therapist turned her attention to Joe, her voice kind but firm. "Joe, we’ve heard from Keyshia about her struggles, but I’d like to hear from you. Can you tell me why you cheated?"

Joe looked up, his face tense with shame. He hadn’t been prepared for this moment, but he knew it was coming. He had to answer. There was no running from the truth anymore.

"I... I cheated because I was selfish," Joe admitted, his voice thick with regret. "I wasn’t thinking about Keyshia, or our family, or the consequences of my actions. I was just thinking about myself. What I wanted. What I needed. It was a terrible, selfish mistake."

Keyshia’s heart tightened in her chest as she listened to his words. She had heard them before, but hearing them again didn’t make them any easier to swallow. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at him, to accuse him of being heartless. But another part of her, the part that still loved him, that still wanted their family to work, understood that it wasn’t as simple as just anger or betrayal.

Joe continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. "I regretted it the moment it happened. And every day since then, I’ve been ashamed of myself. I hurt her. I hurt the person I love most in this world. And I can never take that back."

The therapist listened quietly, allowing Joe the space to speak. There was no judgment in her gaze, only the soft presence of someone who had heard stories like this before. Her role wasn’t to condemn or absolve, but to help them unpack the layers of pain and misunderstanding that had accumulated between them.

Joe's eyes never left Keyshia’s face as he spoke. He could see the pain there, the cracks that had appeared in her once unbreakable resolve. And it tore him apart. He wished he could take it all back, undo every moment that had led them to this point, but he couldn’t. All he could do was try, every day, to prove to her that he was worth the second chance.

Keyshia stayed silent for a long moment, her thoughts whirling. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that he was genuinely remorseful. But the pain of his betrayal, of the lies, the secrets, the woman he had slept with was still fresh in her heart. She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to believe that they could move forward, but something inside of her, some primal part of her was terrified.

"I started drinking more," she finally said, her voice soft but matter-of-fact. "It didn’t get out of hand, but it was my way of numbing everything. Of shutting it all out, you know? But I stopped before it got too far. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. I’ve already been to jail for beating up the woman you cheated with. I don’t want anything else on my record."

The therapist nodded again, her eyes filled with understanding. "It sounds like you're carrying a lot of weight, Keyshia. And it’s not just the betrayal you’re dealing with, but also the fear of losing control. You’re trying to protect yourself, your family, and your reputation. But it's also clear that you're struggling with how to move forward. There’s a lot of emotional turmoil here."

Keyshia nodded, swallowing hard. "I just don’t know how to forgive him. How do I get past the hurt? How do I get past the fact that he... he chose someone else?" Her voice broke on the last word, and she wiped away a stray tear, trying to hold it together. "I’m just... so scared. What if I can’t ever trust him again? What if this is the beginning of the end?"

Joe’s eyes filled with tears, and he reached for her hand. "I don’t have all the answers, Keyshia. I don’t. But I’m here. I’m here, and I want to work through this with you. I want us to heal. I love you. I know I’ve hurt you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart a confusing mix of emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was truly remorseful and that they could heal together. But the fear of being hurt again, of opening herself up to him only to be let down, felt like an impossible mountain to climb.

The therapist looked at them both, her voice gentle but firm. "It’s clear that both of you want this to work. But healing takes time. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that doesn’t happen overnight. You both have to be patient with each other and with yourselves. It’s not easy, but it is possible. You have to keep communicating, keep showing up for each other. It’s going to be hard, but if you’re both willing to put in the effort, you can start to rebuild what’s been broken."

Joe squeezed Keyshia’s hand, his grip steady. "I’m in this. For real. Whatever it takes."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She wasn’t sure where this journey would lead. But as she looked at Joe, his tears, his vulnerability, his desperation to make things right, something stirred inside her. Maybe they didn’t have all the answers. Maybe they didn’t know exactly how to heal yet. But there was one thing she did know: they weren’t done. Not yet.

The session lasted for hours, each moment filled with pain, regret, and raw emotion. But as the clock ticked on and the sun began to dip lower outside, there was a quiet, fragile sense of hope between them.

keyshiaanoai 1h

The evening air in Miami was humid but warm, the kind of evening that felt both comforting and suffocating in its weight. The glow of the city’s skyline mirrored the restless energy inside Keyshia. She sat across from Joe at a dimly lit, trendy restaurant by the water, her fingers lightly tapping on her glass as the silence between them stretched a little longer than either of them anticipated.

They had just finished their therapy session, the rawness of the conversation still hanging between them. Keyshia’s mind was a whirl of emotions, confusion, anger, exhaustion, but also the smallest flicker of hope. She wasn’t sure what she expected out of tonight, but a quiet dinner seemed like as good a way as any to unwind, to talk more if they needed to, or maybe just to be together without the weight of their history pressing in on them. But now, with every passing minute, the unease was creeping back in.

Joe, seemingly still processing the session, wasn’t speaking much either. His hands rested on the table, his gaze distant. He had apologized again, promised to do better, but Keyshia couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives were being pulled in different directions. Her thoughts circled back to the things they’d said in therapy, about forgiveness, about the future and every time she thought about it, the questions mounted in her mind. Could she really forgive him? Was she ready to move forward, to let go of the past and rebuild their family?

The waiter arrived, setting down their plates with a soft smile, but Keyshia hardly noticed. She barely touched her food, not because she wasn’t hungry but because something felt off.

Joe noticed too. His eyes flicked from his plate to her face, studying her for a moment. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice soft, trying to gauge her mood without pressing too much.

Keyshia looked at him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to make sense of everything. “Yeah,” she said, though she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure if she could pinpoint exactly what was bothering her, but she couldn’t shake the tension in her chest. “Just... tired, I guess.”

Joe nodded, though he clearly wasn’t convinced. Before he could respond, Keyshia’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the restaurant. Her heart froze in her chest. The world seemed to slow down as a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

It was Tyson.

Her ex-boyfriend. The one she had been with before Joe, the one she thought she’d marry before everything had fallen apart. The one who had left her heartbroken in ways she hadn’t even fully understood until years later, when Joe came into her life and showed her what real love could look like. Tyson had been a part of her past, a chapter she had closed, one she never thought she’d have to revisit.

But here he was, standing in the doorway, and he wasn’t alone.

Tyson was with her.

The woman. The one Joe had cheated on her with. The one whose name had burned into Keyshia’s mind like a scar since she found out about the affair. Her eyes narrowed instinctively, her chest tightening. The woman who had played a role in tearing apart everything Keyshia had worked for, the woman who had become the face of the betrayal.

Keyshia’s stomach churned with a mixture of anger and disbelief. She could feel her blood start to simmer beneath her skin, the old feelings rising like a tidal wave, ready to crash over her. For a split second, she wondered if it was some twisted coincidence, but as Tyson laughed and the woman smiled up at him with that too-familiar affection, there was no denying the reality.

Joe followed her gaze, and the tension in his shoulders stiffened. He didn’t need to ask; he could see it in her eyes. Her face flushed with a mix of rage and humiliation. She could feel the heat of their presence like a physical weight pressing on her chest, suffocating her. It was too much, all of it—the therapy, the rawness of their conversation, the cracks in their marriage and now this.

She wanted to get up, leave, and pretend this moment wasn’t happening, but the feeling of betrayal was too strong. It wasn’t just about Joe anymore. It was about everything, about her dignity, her self-respect, the promise she’d made to herself that she would never, never let anyone make her feel small again.

Without thinking, without even looking at Joe, Keyshia pushed her chair back. The sound of it scraping against the floor felt like a warning shot to the room.

"Keyshia—" Joe’s voice was tentative, but she didn’t wait. She stood up abruptly, the sharpness of her movements causing a few heads to turn. She didn’t even glance back at him. She couldn’t. She needed to escape. She needed air.

She walked briskly past the table, her heart hammering in her chest. The clinking of glasses, the chatter of other patrons, it all felt distant, like she was submerged underwater. Her breath came quick and shallow as she reached the exit.

“Keyshia, wait!” Joe called after her, his voice strained, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop.

She was already outside the restaurant, stepping into the humid Miami night. The sound of the door swinging closed behind her echoed in her ears, but she didn’t look back.

Keyshia’s mind was a whirlwind as she walked down the sidewalk, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to stay steady. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she couldn’t be near that scene any longer. The sight of Tyson and the woman had pushed her to her breaking point.

Her breath came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding in her chest. How was it possible that after everything she’d been through with Joe, after everything they’d said in therapy, after all the pain and the hope, she was still here, haunted by ghosts of the past?

She didn’t want to feel this way anymore. She didn’t want to carry this anger. She didn’t want to feel like the victim in her own story. But right now, with the weight of Joe, Tyson, and the woman pressing on her, she couldn’t help it. The past wasn’t just haunting her, it was suffocating her. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure if she could bear it anymore.

She was halfway down the block when she heard footsteps behind her. Joe. Of course, it was him. She hadn’t expected anything different.

“Keyshia, please.” His voice was softer now, more pleading. His breath was labored, as if he’d been running to catch up to her. “You don’t have to do this. Please, let’s just talk.”

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t. “I don’t need to talk right now, Joe. I need space. I need air. I need to think.”

“Please, don’t shut me out,” Joe said, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m here, I’m trying. I’m sorry. I just—” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words.

Keyshia finally turned to face him, her eyes cold, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was low but laced with a pain she hadn’t fully realized she’d been carrying. “I’m not just angry at you. I’m angry at me. I’m angry that I’ve let myself stay in this mess. That I’ve let myself be made to feel like I’m not enough. That I let you make me feel small. I’m angry that every time I think I’m over it, it’s like I’m hit with a wave that knocks me back down.”

Joe took a step toward her, his eyes filled with remorse, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Joe. I really don’t. But I need to get away from this for a while. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.”

Without waiting for him to respond, Keyshia turned and walked away, her pace quickening as she put more distance between herself and the restaurant, more distance between herself and everything that had hurt her. She didn’t know what the future held, or if she could truly forgive Joe. But for now, she needed to be alone.

She needed to breathe. To remember who she was before the chaos of it all swept her under.

65 notes · View notes

xoxorealitygalore · 21 days ago

Text

Residuals

Zilla Fatu x Black OC

Summary: Siren participates in Chris Brown’s "Residuals" Challenge and quickly goes viral, catching the attention of many, including her ex, Zilla. The viral moment acts as a catalyst for Zilla to finally address their past and the reasons behind their breakup, forcing both of them to reflect on their relationship and the path they’ve each taken since then.

Who's getting all of my residuals?

Siren stared at the screen, her heart racing as she watched the final edit of her "Residuals" Challenge video. It had taken her a few attempts to get it right. She had poured every ounce of confusion, pain, and longing she had felt in the aftermath of her breakup into the performance, hoping to capture the complex layers of her heart in the simple act of pressing the record button.

She wasn't sure if she had done the song justice, but when she finished watching, she felt an undeniable weight lifted from her shoulders. The song, with its melancholic undertones and themes of unresolved love, was as much her truth as it was a reflection of the journey she’d been on since the end of her relationship with Zilla.

The beat was soft but persistent and mirrored her internal rhythms, the constant ebb and flow of emotions that tugged her in different directions. The lyrics, written in a raw, almost confessional style, were a reflection of everything she had been feeling for months. She had started to live in the shadow of the past, unable to fully escape the imprint Zilla had left on her heart.

The relationship had been filled with passion, hope, and promise, but it had also been laced with moments of doubt, insecurity, and emotional distance. Zilla had always been unpredictable, a force that drew her in while pushing her away at the same time.

As she listened to the track once more, her thoughts drifted back to the beginning of their relationship. She had been swept off her feet, completely unprepared for the intensity of what was to come. He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner. He was confident, charismatic, and full of life.

But over time, cracks began to form. He had told her time and time again that he would never make her cry, that he would always be there for her, but the promises became empty echoes. His words, once so full of certainty, now felt hollow, and she found herself questioning the foundation of everything they had built.

The first verse echoed through her mind: "You said you're never gonna make me cry / Want me to be myself / Never gonna lose again / You're the reason why..." The words felt like a direct hit to her heart, the memory of their last fight fresh in her mind. She had been pleading for attention, for reassurance that they were still on the same page, but every time she reached out, he was absent. "When I need you, you're always missing..." she sang along softly, her voice carrying a layer of sadness. Zilla had always been a little distant, always needing space, and Siren had tried so hard to give him that space. But somewhere along the way, her own needs were left behind, forgotten.

Her mind flicked to the pre-chorus: "Did we build it up, build it up / Just to let it wash away? / Tell me, did I lace you up, lace you up / Just to watch you run away?" She had invested everything into them, her time, her love, her energy but in the end, it felt like none of it had mattered. He had run away from her, both physically and emotionally, leaving her to pick up the pieces of a love that had once been so sure. The love she had given him felt wasted, like a gift unreturned, and the realization stung deeper than she cared to admit.

But it wasn’t just the breakup that hurt her. It was the lingering question of who was now the recipient of all the love, time, and energy she had once poured into Zilla. The chorus echoed louder in her mind: "Who's gettin' all my love? / Who's gettin' all my time? / All of that used to be mine..." She had to wonder if Zilla was now giving what was once hers to someone else, someone who was getting all of the things she had tried to offer. The jealousy, the confusion, the heartbreak, it all pooled into that one burning question: Who’s getting all of my residuals?

The pain was still so fresh. The breakup had left her in a space of limbo, caught between the memories of the love they had shared and the harsh reality of what they had become. “You said you were gonna be my peace / And if I’ma ride for you, you was gon’ ride for me,” Siren sang softly, feeling the sting of disappointment. She had believed in those promises. She had believed in him. But now, all that remained were questions and a void she wasn’t sure how to fill.

As the video finished uploading, Siren leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. She wasn’t sure if she would ever find closure. But maybe, just maybe, putting her feelings into her art into this challenge was a step in the right direction. Her mind raced with the possibilities of what might happen next. Would this video be the one to finally get her noticed? Would this viral moment bring something new into her life, something that could take her mind off the past? She didn’t know. But what she did know was that she was done living in the shadow of the relationship. The world didn’t need to know all the details of their heartbreak, but she couldn’t stay silent either.

Within hours, the video exploded on social media. Comments, likes, and shares flooded in, with fans and strangers alike praising her for her raw vulnerability. The lyrics resonated with so many who had felt the same sting of love lost, and Siren's name quickly spread across the internet. But with the fame came the inevitable, a ripple in the past that Siren wasn’t fully prepared for. Among the comments was one that stood out like a flare in the dark: “Zilla’s gotta see this...”

Then the tagging spree began. Several people were in her comments tagging Zilla. Siren’s heart skipped a beat. Zilla. Of course, he’d see it. He would have to. His name was everywhere now, linked to hers in a way that no one could ignore. She had known, deep down, that putting herself out there in such an intimate way would eventually drag him back into her orbit. But she hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

Just a few hours later, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. The name on the screen made her stomach drop. Zilla. She hesitated before answering, her thumb hovering over the screen for a moment longer than she intended.

“Hello?” Her voice was tentative, unsure of how to approach the conversation.

“Siren,” Zilla’s voice came through, low and measured. There was a strange tension in his tone, as though he had been holding something back. “We need to talk.”

Siren could feel the familiar knot of anxiety forming in her chest, but she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer. “Okay,” she said, her voice steady. “What about?”

“I just saw the video,” Zilla said. There was a pause, and she could almost hear the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. “I need to pull up and talk to you. In person.”

Siren nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She was overwhelmed by the wave of emotions that flooded through her. The past few months had been a blur of loneliness and confusion, but now, the possibility of closure or another painful chapter loomed before her.

“I’ll be here,” she said quietly.

The conversation ended, and Siren set her phone down, her mind racing. What would Zilla say? What did he want now, after everything that had happened? She wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever he had to say, but she knew it was coming. This moment, as inevitable as it felt, was a crossroads. She had poured her heart into the video, sharing her deepest emotions with the world, and now she had to face the consequences.

As she sat on her bed, staring out the window, the sun began to set. She could feel the weight of the past year pressing down on her, but for the first time in a long time, there was a small spark of hope.

Maybe, after all this time, she would finally get the closure she had been searching for.

Or maybe, she would find that she had moved on in ways she hadn’t even realized. Either way, the conversation with Zilla was coming and it would change everything.

The evening stretched before Siren like an uncertain horizon, each passing minute amplifying the anticipation and anxiety knotting her stomach. Her apartment, usually filled with the soft hum of her music and the rhythm of her thoughts, now felt unbearably quiet.

The air hung heavy with unspoken words, emotions she'd stuffed down for too long, waiting for this moment.

As much as she had poured herself into the "Residuals" Challenge, capturing her raw emotions and frustrations in front of the camera, it had been her way of releasing control. But now, as Zilla’s impending arrival loomed, she was back in a place where control seemed so elusive.

She glanced at the clock. It had been about an hour since the call. Zilla had said he'd pull up soon, but the time seemed to stretch impossibly. Every sound, every car passing outside, every creak of the floor seemed amplified in her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation would somehow define everything that had come before and everything that would follow.

Siren wasn’t sure what she expected from Zilla. There had been so many moments when she had imagined confronting him, laying bare all the hurt, the frustration, the confusion that had been festering since their breakup.

Yet, the reality of it all felt so much more complicated now that it was happening. It wasn’t just about their past, it was about how their present had evolved, how their paths had diverged, and whether there was any chance of bridging that gap.

Or maybe it was too late. Maybe the moment for healing had passed.

When the knock finally came at her door, her heart skipped. She stood up quickly, pushing away the swirling thoughts in her head, and walked towards the door with steady steps, though her pulse quickened with every beat.

She opened the door, and there he was. Zilla. Standing in the doorway, dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie. His eyes, usually full of life and mischief, were softer now. There was a tiredness in his gaze that she hadn’t noticed before. The confident swagger he once carried had been replaced by something more vulnerable, almost hesitant.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Siren…”

Her name, coming from his lips after so much time, had a strange weight to it. He wasn’t sure where to begin, and neither was she. They had both been living in this space between the past and the present, and neither of them knew how to navigate the tension.

Siren nodded silently, stepping aside to let him in. They both took a seat, the air between them thick with unspoken things.

“So,” Siren started, trying to sound casual, but her voice betrayed her uncertainty. “You wanted to talk?”

Zilla nodded slowly, his gaze flickering to the video playing on her screen in the corner of the room. The bright colors of the TikTok video felt like a stark contrast to the gravity of the moment. He took a deep breath. “I saw the video. It… It hit me harder than I thought it would.”

Siren watched him carefully, her arms crossed. She had prepared herself for this moment, but now that it was here, she realized how unprepared she was. His words hung in the air, waiting for her to respond. The pain she had been singing about in her challenge felt fresh, and now, hearing his voice again made it all come rushing back.

“Yeah,” Siren said quietly, the memories flooding back. “I guess it’s hard to ignore, huh? It’s kinda hard to hide what’s been happening inside of me. Guess I’ve been holding it all in for too long.” She paused, feeling the weight of her own words. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how it would feel, you know, putting that part of me out there for everyone to see.”

Zilla’s eyes softened as he listened to her. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated as if the right words were just beyond his grasp. Finally, he spoke. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to put it all out there. But I get it. I do. I guess I didn’t realize just how much I hurt you, Siren. I always thought you’d be okay. I thought... well, I guess I was selfish.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she found herself fighting back the surge of emotion. He didn’t say those things back then, not when it mattered. The things he was saying now felt like they had arrived too late, and yet, she found herself softening, just a little. It wasn’t forgiveness, at least, not yet but there was a crack in the wall she’d built between them.

“You were always so busy,” Siren replied, her voice breaking as she looked away, unwilling to let him see how raw she felt. “I was always fighting for your attention, Zilla. You said you’d be there, but when I needed you, you weren’t. It was like I had to keep convincing you to love me.”

Zilla winced at the pain in her voice. He hadn’t known the depth of her loneliness, the way it had eaten away at her over time. “I didn’t mean to do that to you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with regret. “I was so caught up in myself, in my stuff, that I didn’t see how much you were hurting. I should’ve paid more attention. I should’ve listened when you needed me to.”

Siren nodded slowly, her eyes starting to gloss over. It was a mixture of anger and sadness, but also, strangely, relief. She had never heard him say these things to her before. He had always been too proud, too wrapped up in his world to acknowledge her pain. And now, he was sitting here, admitting to his mistakes. The admission didn’t take away the hurt, but it somehow made it more bearable.

“I don’t know if that’s enough, Zilla,” Siren said, her voice trembling. “I’m not saying I can’t forgive you, but... It’s just hard to believe in anything anymore. Everything felt like a lie. The promises we made. The love we had. It all started to fade, and I don’t know how to get it back.”

Zilla’s expression faltered. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the truth had finally settled in. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to just forget everything that happened,” he said, his voice sincere. “But I don’t want us to end like this. Not with you feeling like that.”

For the first time in a long while, Siren let herself look at him fully. She saw the sincerity in his eyes, the guilt, the longing for resolution. And yet, deep down, she knew that even if they could resolve things between them, it didn’t mean they could ever go back to what they once were.

“We’ve both changed, Zilla,” she said softly. “And I’m not sure we’re the same people we were when we started this. I don’t know if we can go back to being... us.”

Zilla didn’t answer right away. He simply nodded, as though he understood. They both knew the truth now: the relationship, as they had known it, was over. What remained was the aftermath, the residuals of their time together, scattered memories and feelings that still had to be processed and dealt with. The viral moment had dragged them both back to the point of confrontation, but it was also an opportunity to lay their past to rest.

“I guess it’s time to let go,” Siren said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Zilla sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air between them. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but resolute. “I never wanted to hurt you, Siren. And I’ll never forget what we had. But I think... I think it’s time for us both to move on.”

Siren nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. She didn’t know what her future held, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. The conversation, painful as it was, had given her the clarity she had been searching for. Zilla had his path to follow, and so did she. And while the residuals of their love might always linger, she could finally start to release them. One step at a time.

As Zilla stood to leave, he paused at the door, looking back at her one last time. “Take care of yourself, Siren,” he said quietly.

She met his gaze, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “You too.”

And with that, Zilla was gone, leaving Siren alone in the space they had once shared, but with a sense of peace settling in her heart. The past was over. The future was unwritten. And for the first time in months, Siren felt ready to move forward.

38 notes · View notes